Tales throughout Time
by BlackCatHikari
Summary: A collection of drabbles and oneshots written for this fandom. Various themes, various pairings, various ratings. Rated M to be safe.
1. Believe In Me

**"Believe In Me"**  
**Katekyo Hitman Reborn - Tsuna/Yamamoto - 21 June 2010**  
Prompt - Tsuna supporting his family.  
Rating - T (Mention of battle wounds, but no real relationship stuff. Hinting, yes, but not really there...)  
Tags - Hurt/comfort

"Tsuna," Yamamoto whispered as he slid around the door frame, movements as languid and smooth as a cat's. He toed forward, bringing forward a sheaf of papers for Tsuna to take when he looked up from the similar stacks piled on his desk. Tsuna smiled and reached forward to take the report, then frowned slightly as he finally took note of Yamamoto's appearance.

Having just come back from a mission, some form of disarray was expected. But this, this was not usual; with buttons torn from a loosely-flying shirt, previously white but now stained deep red with blood and dust; black dress slacks that were now fraying across several slashes scattered along the length of the material; roughly wound and attached bandages wrapped around arms and legs and torso. Even his hair had not escaped damage, with a section at the side all but burnt away. And, now that he looked, that cut, on his chin…

Tsuna strode around the desk quickly, raising a hand to trace the new scar, surprise flitting across his face when the taller assassin flinched away from his touch, only now realising what had originally caught his attention – the lack of Yamamoto's almost constant smile and infectious laugh. Consternation was rising in the forefront of his mind now, and many questions were starting to shoot, rapid-fire, through his thoughts.

"Yamamoto, what happened?"

Takeshi shrugged slowly, trying to act nonchalant and yet lean away from Tsuna's searching gaze and hand at the same time. A soft sigh, and he turned quickly when he felt the hand grip his shoulder. Tsuna's eyes were no longer held the sweet care that had been in them only seconds ago, now they were serious and very much the eyes of the Vongola Tenth.

"Yamamoto—"

"Just read the report." Short, precise, and so much not like the swordman. He slumped slightly, annoyed now at his own performance – for God's sake, he had promised himself that he would not make Tsuna worry – and tried again. "It's nothing, really, Tsuna. I'm just a little tired now." Trying to smile, to pull his lips back into his usual mask of stupidity and naivety, he knew it wasn't working when Tsuna's frown only got deeper, the worry etched in his eyes more pronounced. Still, a laugh, forced and far too high pitched, then, "I'll just go have a rest, and then I'll be down for dinner. Ah, maybe I'll even help the girls tonight; we could have sushi! Just like the old days, huh, Tsuna—"

"Yamamoto." Tsuna's gaze hardened, sharpening into what Takeshi knew was the Hyper Intuition taking hold, and then softened again into a kind of caring, questioning understanding. He smiled, letting the forgotten hand on Yamamoto's shoulder rise slightly to brush at the stained cloth wrapped around the other's neck, trying his damn hardest not to let his reaction show when Yamamoto tensed at the fingers sweeping over the new wounds, layered on top of new ones.

"I know, Yamamoto. I could read everything in the report, and you could go and hide in your room until you can control your smile," said smile – attempt, his traitorous mind supplied – shattered as Tsuna tore apart his little lies, "or we could sit down now, and you could tell me about what happened. All about it, and no leaving things out like you and the other's do in the official reports." Another flinch – since when had he known they did that? – and then an almost relaxation as the hand on his neck moved to his shoulder again, pressing into the tightly wound muscle just below.

"And what if," a smile, true and very, very wry this time, "what if I don't want to talk about it?" Yamamoto regarded Tsuna carefully, gauging his reaction as he finally,finally, let down all the walls and the masks, letting his boss see the true extent of the exhaustion that plagued his mind and his body and his soul. And almost lost another piece of his heart when despair threatened at the amount of pain that registered in that one gaze from his boss.

Said boss sighed and let his hand on Yamamoto's shoulder still, using it instead to draw the taller man into a tight embrace, still careful with the injured flesh, completely ignoring the swordsman's indignant and surprised cry. "That's fine," he whispered, sad smile appearing as Yamamoto's head fell to rest on his shoulder as, finally, the body in his arms relaxed and the wet stain of salty tears started to grow on his shirt. He smiled, berating himself for the millionth time for dragging someone like Yamamoto into this business, simultaneously thanking the heavens that he still had such people at his back in all this madness, and let his hands run soothingly over the planes of Yamamoto's back.

"That's fine," he whispered, and then, with a stirring of Intuition egging him on, continued, "Whenever you need me, Yamamoto, I'll be here for you. Just believe in me as I believe in you.

"Afterall, I am your Boss, and you are my Guardian."_  
_


	2. Breakdowns

**"Breakdowns"  
Katekyo Hitman Reborn - Tsuna/Yamamoto - 21 June 2010**  
Prompt - Tsuna supporting his family.  
Rating - T (No real relationship stuff but some very minor hints.)  
Tags - Fluff, hurt/comfort

By the time Tsuna turned twenty, the Vongola Familiglia controlled most of the world. Mind you, they had already controlled quite a lot before that, but now it was a difference kind of control – it was a leash that, instead of pulling in money and corpses, grudging respect and a hell of a lot of enemies, it drew in money and friends, true respect and many, many allies.

The Family who had achieved were, of course, the best in the world.

From the aloof Cloud Guardian, who had never really left Namimori, even when they all technically moved to Italy, to the loyal Storm Guardian, who was never seen anywhere that wasn't within sight of the Tenth, unless ordered otherwise by said boss, every one of them were the greatest in their profession. Unfortunately, being the top of anything meant stress and expectations, and for the young hitmen, it was certainly no different.

All that stress and expectations could get very, very difficult to bear sometimes.

Only a very select few though had ever seen any one of the Guardians break down, though their boss was still slightly more adept at hysterics than any of them bar Lambo. But anyone who had even heard of such events would heartily agree that it was not a pretty sight.

Hibari himself had gone berserk when he had returned to Namimori after their first trip to Italy, only to find the school and neighbourhood in slight disarray, with half of Kusakabe's group in hospital after an apparent run-in with some local gang.

Ryohei had, of course, had a fit when Kyoko had headed into battle for the first time, disregarding the fact that she and Haru had both been training with the Guardians and the Arcobaleno for a good four years.

Lambo, in addition to his constant outbursts all throughout his childhood, had gone absolutely insane one time when an enemy Familglia had thought it wise to take hostages to get a rise from the Vongola, I-Pin included. Needless to say, there was nought but a smoking mess left once he was through with them.

Mukuro, despite being so perfect the rest of the time, went on quite the rampage once Tsuna had finally managed to coerce Vendici to let him out. Incidentally, every single person he went after could, in some way, be traced back to Chrome, Ken or Chikusa. Lucky for him too, as the only way Tsuna kept him out of Vendici was by claiming that he was acting under orders. And then ordering him to never do such a thing again.

Gokudera, being the right-hand-man of the Vongola Decimo, and owning such a volatile and unstable personality, was the only one of them to have had multiple break downs – all of them connected to times when Tsuna was threatened or injured.

Yamamoto, however, was slightly different.

Not once had anyone , inside or outside of the Family, ever seen him lose his cool. That perpetual smile and infectious laugh was impossible to kill, no matter how much blood was shed for whatever cause they were going after this time. Never, in the entire six years of the Tenth's Family ruling the Mafia Underground, had Yamamoto gone on a violent spree, or lost his concentration in a fight, or even let the many rumours and gossips get to him – and some of them could only be described as downright nasty.

No one, except Tsuna.

Those few times when, hidden from the view of the greater public, Yamamoto felt his mind's shields begin to crumble, his smile slipping from its usual place, he would make his way to Tsuna, tail between his legs yet head held high.

He would not cry, or scream and shout, or go into a frenzy of activity. He would stand there, waiting until Tsuna's intuition brought him up to date and made him realise that, yes, this was one of those times, and then would curl up in the protective embrace that was offered so freely there, trembling and shaking until nothing was left of the pain but a tiny ball that he could push back into the recesses of his mind, gathered there with the rest of his collection of miniscule fragments.

Afterwards, neither would ever mention the event again, though Yamamoto did occasionally catch Tsuna regarding him thoughtfully, usually right before he ended up in that office again, and never did anyone else ever find out about their little secrets either.

Besides, God forbid that anyone found out that the Vongola's resident idiot wasn't quite as scatterbrained as was thought._  
_


	3. Primal Instincts

**"Primal Instincts"**  
**Katekyo Hitman Reborn - Yamamoto/Gokudera - 28 June 2010**  
Prompt - Kitty (And what would happen, possibly, if something went wrong with Gokudera's box weapon, Uri...)  
Rating - T (Fluff... yeah, that's about it.)  
Tags - Fluff, instincts

Yamamoto considered the figure curled up on his couch and then sighed, drifting over to gently brush a hand through silver locks. "Gokudera… Goku_de_ra…"

Said figure shifted under the ministrations, then stretched slightly as the invasion of sleep slowly withdrew. Sharp eyes moved to survey the room, before settling on the tall swordsman in front of him. Then the eyes narrowed as a slight hiss rose from a slender throat as a hand was raised to bat away the fingers still kneading his scalp.

A laugh broke the silence as Yamamoto pushed Gokudera along the couch, clearing space for him to sit down himself. Never mind that the other immediately sprang as far away on the plush surface as he could, but Yamamoto just smiled and laid his arms over the arm and back of the couch, letting himself sink into the pillows in relief. "So, Gokudera, how was your day?" Another soft laugh was followed by, "Bet 'cha slept all through it!"

The smaller of the two, still huddled in his corner glared angrily at the other, sharp sounds rolling from his tongue with every exhalation. Yamamoto smiled, an undercurrent of sadness showing in his eyes, and offered a hand to the other teen. He ignored the stiffening of Gokudera's posture at the sudden closeness, but let his smile grow wider when that tension started to ebb away after a minute had trailed off into two, then three…

"Yama…moto…"

Still pressed deep into the arm of the couch, Gokudera stared hard at Yamamoto as he repeated the other's name, then, slowly, slowly, ever so slowly, inched forward until his cheek met with the offered hand. It was all Yamamoto could do to still his hand, against both the strain of having held it up for so long, and from reacting to the light touch, but it was well worth when, a minute later, Gokudera took the initiative himself and raised a hand to gently press rough fingertips against his wrist.

Drawing on every reservoir of patience instilled in his mind, Yamamoto just sat there and grinned, content to let Gokudera just play with his hand for now, watching as the cautious eyes slowly turned warmer, the hackles slowly lowered, and every trace of stress and animosity drained from Gokudera's lithe form. Never mind that it had taken nearly twenty minutes by now just to get his used to Yamamoto's presence, it was gratifying in itself that he had deigned to progress this far, especially after having just been woken up.

"Gokudera…" Slate hair shifted as the eyes once more locked on Yamamoto's, fingers stilling in their explorations, as Yamamoto made a small noise of contemplation, before breaking once more into his distinctive laugh. He smiled, possibly with just a touch of sentimentality and ruefulness in his gaze, before he slowly began to shift forward, matching Gokudera's own pace of backing away perfectly and not stopping until their faces were barely centimetres apart.

A nervous shift of his body was all Yamamoto needed as a warning to grab both of Gokudera's hands before he could swipe at his face, lips pulled back in a snarl to match the sudden anger that had replaced the earlier calm in Gokudera's expression. That, though, was to be expected. Even in such small increments, closing the distance like that had only been counterproductive towards calming Gokudera down, and Yamamoto knew that.

Indeed, he knew that very well, but it was all planned, all a part of what he knew as the best way to bend the younger to his will. Smiling as Gokudera began thrashing under him, heart and lungs working at a fevered pace, Yamamoto merely laughed at the pathetic struggles. Gokudera was strong, yes, but it was only when in such a position that Gokudera really lost control of the logical side that usually ruled his thoughts. Now, however, everything was very, very _primal_.

And that was all the opening Yamamoto needed to press forward, resting his lips against Gokudera's among the sudden stillness. Pressing forward, letting one hand loose to close on the back of his neck, shifting fingers through silver strands again, Yamamoto smiled into the kiss as Gokudera's stillness broke, and he began to redirect that anger and emotion into another… _avenue._

All according to plan.


End file.
